


Another World

by InAmongstTheMountains



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-11
Updated: 2015-07-11
Packaged: 2018-04-08 17:42:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4314408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InAmongstTheMountains/pseuds/InAmongstTheMountains
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU written for a prompt on tumblr: Meeting at a Masquerade Ball. With my Lavellan, Eilwen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Another World

The ballroom appeared as if if had been plucked from a dream. A hurricane painters palette of silk and samite bled into each other leaving no indication where one color and pattern ended and another began. Gleaming gemstones and delicate chains and rings of gold and silver flashed in the magical torchlight. A thousand false faces; owl, halla, wyvern, wolf resplendent in their craftsmanship glowed with intricate lines of lyrium. Eilwen adjusted the lacquered fox’s visage that covered her own, side stepping a lord bearing a regal crown of golden antlers, and suddenly felt distinctly under-dressed.

Her sponsor had left her alone, as had her tutor. ‘Youve learned the steps, you know all that can be taught without experience, try and not ruin your dress.’ They said. As if that was any help. Her stomach tightened, even as she held herself straighter. It wasn’t everyday you attended a ball held in honor of one of the Transcended.

The hall was far too crowded to locate anyone she knew, as if you could have discerned who’s who behind the masks. Careful not to step on anyone’s skirt, Eilwen weaved through some of the most renowned and power in Elvhenan.

Several minutes, and no unfortunate mishaps later, she came out on the other side, finally able to move away from the crowds and dazzle in the perfection of the architecture, a seamless integration of geometry and nature. Every wall bore intricate mosaics, the floor reverberated with each slippered step. The ceiling, a seamless dome of clear crystal gave the impression that the building opened into the heavens. The Beyond, ever present, sang softly in the waves of magic all about her. Eilwen felt as if she could spend an eternity here and never absorb it all.

With no sign of those she entered with, the young mage reached out with her mind to brush a spirit of courage. There would be no going home empty handed, she’d talk to someone without embarrassing herself before the night was out.

Minutes of wandering had granted her nothing but an exquisite view to the glowing streets far below. Eilwen spun, frustrated with herself, she couldn’t pick anyone to speak too, none of them seemed interesting. A lonely figure apart from the rest, as being given a wide berth, idle, watchful, pondering perhaps against a pillar. With no better ideas, Eilwen approached.

Rapidly, she understood others distance from the figure whom she could now tell was a man. His connection to Beyond was almost overwhelming, the aura of whatever magic he commanded prickled like lightening across her skin, and static caused her silks to cling to her limbs and the stray hairs that had escaped her bun to rise. The attempt to shield herself in her own magic alleviated the reaction but a little, yet she persisted even as he turned his masked face towards her.

“Are you watching the dancers, they’re beautiful aren’t they?” She asked. Eilwen stood a full head shorter than him, the silver and shimmering greys of her dress complimented his deep neutral tones and the ¾ mask of carved ironwood inscribed with runes that shrouded much of his face.

A tiny upturn of his lips was the only indication of his acceptance of her presence. “Beautiful though they are, there’s more to be seen than gowns and jewels.”

“Such as?” She pressed. If she was interested in him before it was doubly so now.

His eyes narrowed humorously behind his mask, and Eilwen prickled feeling as if she were being teased. “You seem sharp, little fox, observe and tell me for yourself.”

The mage turned to regard the dance floor, unsure what was meant to be found amidst the swirling fabrics, feathers, and stones. Then it dawned in her: he asked a trick question. It wasn’t about what the eye could see, it was what it couldn’t. Her barrier fell and the power in the room washed over her, so heavy she forgot to breathe, temporarily stunned. Attuning to the Beyond, awareness crept in, providing the touch need to feel the way individual auras pulled and pushed at each other. Some were gentle, they caressed like lovers, others bristled like angry cats. Curious, she reached for her mysterious companions, surprised to find it guileful and adroit, different than the austerity she’d read in it earlier.

The grin he wore meant he knew her answer before she spoke, wolfish and gilded with a touch of conceit. Eilwen’s heart jumped and she thanked the spirits that the mask and makeup hid her blush. “You’re watching the interactions, reading the true feelings behind the masks and the smiles. This is a game to you isn’t it?”

“Very astute, cunning fox.” Another narrow-eyed tease.

The music changed and embolden by her success, Eilwen offered her hand in the most ladylike fashion she could muster. “Would you dance with me?”

He blinked at her, taken aback for an instant by her nerve. “Traditionally, it is up to the elder partner to ask for the dance.”

Eilwen shrugged, her hand still out, and met him square. “I have never been a traditionalist.”

“So it seems.” His sly smile returned and he took her hand, long fingers wrapping around her own.

They danced many times that night, each step and sweep a rush of elation within the young woman that shed her of all self doubt and worry. After hours that could have been years, her tutor found her, anxious to get home.

“Just a moment.” Eilwen said to her teacher with new-found confidence and authority. “I want to say goodbye first.”

Without a look back, she moved around the slow trickle of departing guests, finding her mysterious dance partner near the spot he was before and just as pensive. “Leaving so soon?” He queried.

“Unfortunately. But I wanted to thank you for such a wonderful night.”

“I rather enjoyed mine as well.” Unexpectedly, he took Eilwen’s hand and kissed it. Dark blue eyes burrowed into her own. “I’m curious however.” He held her hand firm. “What drew you to me in the first place?”

Eilwen tilted her head and laughed quietly. “You were the most interesting person here.” She paused, her body focusing on the feel of his hand holding hers, an act seemingly so innocent but with a tremendous level of implication. “If I may, what is your name?”

Now it was his turn to chuckle, “The point of a masquerade, I believe, is to hide your real self to take on a new image. Providing a name dispels the magic of it all.”

She frowned internally. Perhaps it was presumptuous of her to ask for his name when they barely knew each other. “Can I see your face then at least. Your true one.”

He shook his head, was that regret she saw? “You wouldn’t care for the true me, even if I had a wish to reveal it.”

“But how will I ever find you again?” She asked, almost begged. This night had been a dream, one she found no desire to end even if reality pulled her that way. Eilwen’s entourage arrived, standing a short distance away, respectful but impatient in her dallying.

To her heart-stopping surprise, he leaned in and kissed one of her makeup covered cheeks. “You will, fearless fox. Someday, perhaps, in another world.”


End file.
